


The Better Bitty Boudoir Bureau

by LeftWingLibrarian



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boudoir Photography, But not by Jack or Bitty, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jack Zimmermann with the A, Just a minor OC, Lingerie, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftWingLibrarian/pseuds/LeftWingLibrarian
Summary: Bitty tightens the towel one more time, an outlet for his fitful energy, a little shiver of nerves running up his spine. While he likes the game plan they've come up with for the shoot, he’s still a little nervous about being completely naked. In front of a stranger. Who is taking pictures. Of him.Which is silly. He’s literally spent years in locker rooms being naked around dozens of other guys. This just seems a little more … revealing, somehow.orBitty does a boudoir photography shoot as a surprise for Jack.





	The Better Bitty Boudoir Bureau

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this fic for more than a year, just trying to find the motivation to finish it. Huge thanks to the organizers of the 2018 Check Please! Big Bang for giving me a reason to complete it!
> 
> I also owe a huge debt of gratitude to several cheerleaders. Big thanks to [TuppingLiberty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty), [ahausonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/ahausonfire) and  
> [meansgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meansgirl/pseuds/meansgirl) for reading early drafts and telling me to keep going. [jamesiee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesiee/pseuds/jamesiee) has been the most patient, kind and encouraging beta. Thank you all for your comments, your encouragement and your friendship!

“ … and then I turned around and he was kneeling down with a little box with the ring in it and I just started sobbing and said ‘Yes’ before he could even say anything!”

Bitty joins the chorus of murmured endearments a bit absentmindedly, sipping his Bellini while he debates the brunch menu. Poots had been trying to work up the courage to propose to Julia for quite a while — and had received a few pep talks from Bitty — so while he’s excited for the happy couple, Bitty’s not exactly surprised.

He’s startled from his reverie by the clatter of a chair being pushed back and a bump from behind as Savannah rushes past, visibly upset.

“Poor thing. She found out Luke cheated again on the last roadie,” Bitty hears his favorite Falconer wife Carrie Robinson whisper. “I think these get togethers are hard on her.”

“Well, bless his heart.” Bitty’s voice is like ice as he whispers back, standing and folding his napkin. “I’ll go see if she’s alright.”

He finds Savannah outside in the alley beside the restaurant, crying her eyes out and in desperate need of a tissue.

“Aw, honey, come here,” Bitty says, proffering his hanky before pulling her into a tight hug. “What’s wrong?”

“Luke’s been hooking up on the road again,” she sniffles, once she’s managed to get her crying under control. “Bitty, I just don’t know what to do. He says he loves me, and I think he does, but he also says what happens on the road stays on the road and that it just comes with the territory when you’re dating an NHL player.”

Bitty knows a certain NHL player who would literally be dead if he said something like that (not that Jack would ever say such a thing anyway), and honestly he’s tempted to call up Luke “Andie” Andersen and give him Shitty’s best lecture on gender roles and relationships, but instead he tries to summon some calming words and advice for the poor girl.

“Well honey, I know some couples treat the situation that way, and while some can make it work, it’s not for everyone. I couldn’t bear it if Jack was with someone else,” he says, hugging her close, knowing the truth is hurtful but feeling like he can’t lie. “I think you just need to decide if it is something you can live with, and if not, maybe it’s time to move on?”

“Yeah … yeah, I know,” she says, calm starting to settle over her. “I mean, I want to get married and have a family and stuff, but how can I do that if he’s not committed, you know?”

“I know honey. You need to make sure this relationship is working for both of you. And if you decide it’s not, that’s OK. You’ve got me in your corner either way, you hear?”

“Thanks Bitty. I’ll … I need to think about it.”

“Of course you do, a big decision like that is gonna take a lot of soul searching,” Bitty says, stepping apart and looking her in the eye. “Now, let’s go back inside and order you something to eat and maybe a nice mimosa, and we’ll take your mind off it for a little bit, OK?”

She gives him a watery smile and they make their way back into the restaurant, arm in arm.

“That was sweet of you to go after Savannah,” Carrie says later as she drives Bitty home after the “Significant Others and Partners” brunch. “How’s the poor thing doing?”

“Oh, well, you know. Pretty upset. But I think she’s starting to realize that Luke might not be the guy for her, so that’s good.”

“Oh good. I’ll have to give her a call tomorrow or the next day, just let her know she’s got lots of support from the other SOAPs,” Carrie says. “And maybe I’ll have Randy give Luke a talking-to. It’s not the team’s job to keep him in check, obviously, but it won’t hurt to have Cap watching over his shoulder, right?”

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll mention it to Jack, too. Though he is still awkward about things like that, poor boy.”

“Oh, he’s doing great! Rand says Jack’s really stepped up the social interaction since Marty retired,” Carrie says. “I’m sure if Luke has both of them on his back it’ll make him think twice. That poor girl deserves better.”

They ride in silence for a few moments, Bitty’s mind drifting as he stares out the window.

“Carrie, do you ever worry about Thirdy straying when he’s on the road?” Bitty finally asks quietly. He feels like a fool, but it’s been weighing on his mind.

“Maybe I would if I didn’t know he really looks forward to those nights in a bed all by himself. We pretty much have to schedule alone time since the twins were born,” she jokes before turning to see that Bitty is serious, her tone softening. “But really, no. I trust him. Surely you don’t think Jack …”

“Oh, Lord no! It’s just … I guess I worry about that things won’t always be as perfect as they are now,” Bitty tries to explain. “You know, we’re getting older, and now that we’ve started the adoption process life is going to change … I guess I just worry about losing that spark, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I know,” Carrie laughs. “I know all too well. But you make it work. And you find little ways to keep the spark alive. In fact … Bitty, can I tell you something kind of personal? It’s OK if you don’t want me to, it’s just … I’m dying to tell someone and it’s TMI for most conversations.”

Bitty perks right up at that. “Spill it, girl!”

“I did a boudoir photo shoot for Randy’s birthday,” she says with a shy grin.

“You did what?!”

“Yep! I’ve been feeling bad about my body ever since the twins came — four kids have not been kind to my figure — so a girlfriend suggested doing this as a way to make me feel sexy and empowered, and also give Randy a nice surprise.”

“Did it work? Did you feel sexy?” Bitty asks eagerly. He knows that Jack finds him attractive, but he also knows his body isn’t in the same shape it once was since he’s stopped playing hockey, and he’s been feeling self conscious lately. His hockey butt is still firm, pert and perky, but the days of the Better Bitty Booty Bureau are definitely in the past.

“It was amazing! I felt so sensual! Really, I think it ended up being more for me than for him,” she says excitedly. “I can show you the photos if you want — if that’s not too weird? I’ve been so excited about it I’ve been dying to tell someone.”

“I’d love to see them,” Bitty says, chewing on his lip, mind working. “So, you can just hire someone to do that?”

“Oh my God, Bitty, do you want to do it? You totally should! Jack would love it!”

“Well, I’d never thought about it before,” Bitty says shyly. “And I don’t know that I could. I’m a good Southern boy, you know. But I guess I’d like to learn more about it.”

“OK, I will send you the link and password for my photo gallery as soon as I get home,” she says as they pull up to Jack and Bitty’s complex. “You can take a look, and if you want to do it, I’ll send you the photographer’s info. He was great. I was worried it would be weird and awkward, but he made me feel really comfortable.”

Bitty gives Carrie a hug and hops out of the car, waving as she drives away. His mind is still on the photo shoot idea as he rides the elevator up to their apartment, but when he opens the door Jack is there suggesting they go out and enjoy the afternoon, and Bitty banishes the plan to the back corner of his mind.

Jack’s home for a stretch, so it’s not until a few days later that Bitty finally finds some uninterrupted time to actually look at the photos. He opens the slide show with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. He’s realizing he never asked Carrie exactly how explicit the photos would be, and he’s a bit worried about what he’ll see. It’s not like Bitty’s never seen porn before, but he’s not sure he wants to see someone he knows in that situation. Is he ever going to be able to look Carrie in the face again?

But he shouldn’t have worried. The photos, while extremely erotic and suggestive, are also very tastefully done. And Carrie looks — there is no other word for it — radiant. Sexiness and confidence are beaming out of every frame. Bitty was worried the photos would be awkward or forced, but Carrie looks relaxed and comfortable, posing with her trademark smirk or an outright laugh in almost every shot. It looks like the Carrie he sees at every game, but at her very best. Gone is the tired smile and worry over cellulite that normally accompanies his friend. The woman who is too embarrassed to wear a bikini at the beach is flaunting her body in lingerie — or in a few shots — in nothing more than a strategically rumpled sheet. There is a gorgeous shot from behind of her dimpled thighs and butt in a lacy thong, another of her in just a bra and panties, C-section scar from the twins on display. 

And the amazing thing is, those things don’t matter. All the imperfections Carrie sees in herself have been captured here, but they are the last thing anyone who looks at the photos would notice. And even if someone did — like Bitty after going through the slideshow for the 5th time — they don’t detract from the sex appeal. In fact, they almost enhance it, because it’s not Carrie trying to be someone else. It flits through Bitty’s mind that Thirdy must love these, and he resolves right then to give it a shot.

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Bitty’s starting to question his decision when he walks into the coffee shop a few weeks later, casting nervous glances around while grabbing himself a PSL. What is he thinking? He can’t do this. Have a stranger see him in his all-together, and take photos to boot? Suzanne Bittle would be mortified. Then again, Bitty thinks, his mama would likely be mortified at quite a few of the things he and Jack get up to when they are alone.

“Eric?” he hears a man’s voice, soft and deep, question from a table in the corner. He turns to see a handsome man with brown curls and hazel eyes reaching out to shake his hand. “Sean Covington. Please, have a seat.”

“Thanks, yes, Carrie sent me a link to your portfolio, you are so talented,” Bitty says. 

He sits down with every intention of telling Sean that this is all a big mistake and he can’t go through with this, but the other man is talking and sliding a document across the table.

“Thanks. Carrie seemed pleased with her shoot, which is always great to hear. Before we go any farther I’d like you to read over this. It’s a non-disclosure and confidentiality agreement. I make all my clients sign one. Please let me know if anything doesn’t make sense or you have any questions. This is a delicate matter and I want you to feel comfortable knowing that I’ll protect your privacy.”

Bitty’s a bit taken aback by how business-like Sean seems, but at the same time it’s rather comforting. Sean is clearly a professional and worried about the privacy of his client, so Bitty takes a deep breath and starts reading over the agreement. He’s read enough contracts with Jack to understand most of the legalese, so he finishes quickly and signs with a flourish.

“Wonderful,” Sean says, signing the document himself. “Now, I know this can be a bit intimidating. Have you ever done a boudoir shoot before?”

“No, never even considered it, actually,” Bitty says with a nervous laugh. “Never would have thought of it myself if it wasn’t for Carrie.”

“Totally understandable. I just want to spend some time getting to know you so we can give you the best possible shoot. My goal is to showcase the very best version of you I can. And we’ll also make some concrete plans about the location, wardrobe and props for the shoot. Sound good?”

“Sure, I can do that,” Bitty says, taking a sip of his coffee. Maybe it’s the PSL’s comforting warmth, or maybe it’s Sean’s professional manner, but Bitty is starting to feel like he might actually be able to do this.

“So, first off, are you doing this for just for yourself, or as a gift to someone else?”

“It’s for my husband. He uh, travels quite a bit for work, and I thought it might be nice for him to, you know, take this with him …” Bitty can feel his blush creeping all the way down his chest.

“Great idea, he’s going to love it. My husband and a photographer friend surprised me with a photo book as a wedding present, and it means the world to me,” Sean says, completely unperturbed. “I actually do quite a few shoots for couples who have to spend time apart. So, tell me a little bit about the two of you.”

“Well, I run a baking vlog and also have a small catering company. I do a lot of dessert buffets at weddings and events, that sort of thing. And my husband plays hockey — that’s why he travels so much — and we’ve been married for almost two years. We just turned in our adoption papers so we’re hoping to start a family soon.”

“Awesome, that’s wonderful,” Sean says warmly. “So tell me, how do a baker and a hockey player get together?”

Bitty is feeling quite comfortable now, talking about Samwell and hockey and the story of their years together. Sean asks a question every now and then, collecting more and more information. He’s easy to talk to, and though the questions gradually become more intimate, Bitty doesn’t feel awkward or embarrassed. Some of the questions are clearly for the shoot — what makes Bitty feel sexy? What are some of his favorite features about himself? And what are Jack’s favorite features about Bitty? — but most seem to be simply about understanding them as a couple.

“OK, fantastic. This gives me lots to work with,” Sean says, peeling off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Bitty looks at the clock and realizes they have been chatting for almost 45 minutes. “Based on what you’ve said, I’d recommend we do the shoot at your place. Normally I’d suggest my studio or a hotel, but I have some ideas for some specific set-ups that I think would work well in a place where we have access to a gym, a kitchen and a TV room.”

“Sure, that’s fine. Let’s just make sure we find a time Jack won’t be home,” Bitty smiles as he pulls up his calendar on his phone. There’s a media training day coming up in a few weeks with an optional skate after, and since optional skates are never optional to Mr. 110% Jack Zimmermann, they should have plenty of time. Sean is free that day too, so they book the session and spend a few more minutes discussing locations and wardrobe.

“I’ll email you a checklist with some more ideas and tips to help you prepare,” Sean says as they walk out together. “If you can send me the address and any directions I’ll need to get in, we should be set.”

“Great! I’m actually getting pretty excited about this,” Bitty says, shaking Sean’s hand and turning to walk back home, already brainstorming his outfit ideas and what songs he’ll put on his playlist.

_/ \\_ _/\\_

The day of the shoot comes and Bitty is second guessing himself once again. It’s been a stressful morning with an early start. He’d made Jack’s favorite maple-crusted apple pie for the shoot, but also had to start prepping for a wedding the following day, so the kitchen isn’t as clean as he would like. But he’s got his outfits and props assembled as per Sean’s instructions and he’s just hopped out of the shower when he hears the buzzer. He buzzes Sean in and runs to the bedroom to throw on some clothes before realizing that may be a futile effort, considering the day’s agenda, so he settles for throwing on a pair of sweats and pulling an old T-shirt over his head as he hears the knock at the door.

“Hey, come on in,” he says, opening the door. “Do you need a hand with all that?”

Sean seems to be carrying a lot of equipment, but waves Bitty off. 

“Nah, I’m used to schlepping this stuff around with me,” Sean says with a smile. “OK, so, looks like you need to get ready. Do you care where we start? I’ll go get set up while you get dressed, how’s that sound?”

 

“Sure, that works,” Bitty says, suddenly feeling a bit shy again. “I was thinking maybe the locker room scene first? I got the manager to give us the gym until noon, is that enough time?”

“Plenty of time. We’ll only do maybe 20 minutes in each scene. Otherwise it’s just too long and grueling for you,” Sean says. “Why don’t you point me down there and I’ll get everything set up, and you can come down when you are ready? Maybe toss on a robe or something too, if that will help you be more comfortable.”

So Bitty finds himself 15 minutes later walking down to the complex’s small gym, wearing hockey pads and a robe and carrying his old hockey bag full of props. Sean’s got everything set up in the locker area. Bitty was a bit worried this wouldn’t look enough like Samwell, but Sean has assured him that the suggestion is more important than exact accuracy.

“OK, this is perfect,” Sean says, arranging Bitty so he is straddling the locker room’s small bench and holding his stick in one hand and tape in the other. “We’ll start easy. Just do your thing and act like I’m not even here. It might feel a bit weird at first, so we’ll start here with lots of clothing on and we don’t have to do anything else until you feel more comfortable, OK?”

“OK,” Bitty says with a sigh, flushing a bit. “I feel so silly. What do you want me to do?”

“Well, I know absolutely nothing about hockey, so we’re gonna have to work together on this one,” Sean answers. “Just … do what you’d normally do to get ready for a game. And I’ll let you know if you need to do anything different.”

Bitty takes a deep breath and lets it out before picking up his left skate and lacing it up. He can hear Sean’s camera clicking away and see him moving about to get different angles. It’s distracting, and Bitty is already so nervous that he feels the tension bunching in his shoulders. It’s too quiet with just the click of the camera, he really should have brought his playlist …

“Hey, Eric?” Sean’s voice, low and warm, calls him back to reality. “You seem a bit nervous. I know this can feel really awkward as we get started, so how would you feel if we chat a little bit to get you more comfortable?”

“Yeah, I .. I think that would help,” Bitty says, shoulders dropping and breathing out a sigh. 

“OK. So you and your husband played hockey together, right? What was that like?”

“Oh, well, it was a little rough to start, he didn’t like me much,” Bitty says with a laugh. “But then we got to be linemates — so we played together? — and that was just magic. Being on the ice with Jack, well, there was just nothing like it. Well, until we started dating, that is. We were just friends while we were playing together. He didn’t get up the guts to kiss me until his graduation, and I’d had this massive crush on him the whole year but I thought he was straight …”

Bitty’s been self-consciously lacing up his skate, but as he talks about Jack his routine soon takes over, even though it’s been a few years. He gets both skates on and then pulls the stick toward him, starting to wrap it with tape.

“So you guys never shared a locker room while you were dating?” Sean asks, clearly trying to keep the conversation going and put Bitty at ease. “I bet there were some stolen looks at each other though.”

Bitty can feel himself blushing all the way down to his chest as he bites his lip and tries to focus on wrapping the stick but is distracted with thoughts of some of the furtive glances he gave Jack as a lovesick sophomore. “Well I never ‘snuck a peek at his hockey stick,’ if that’s what you mean. Growing up gay in Georgia means you learn real early to keep your eyes to yourself,” Bitty says with a rueful smile, thinking back on all the anxiety-filled changing sessions he’s experienced over the years. He can’t resist lightening the mood with a chirp. “Lucky for me I’m more of an ass man, and Jack’s huge hockey butt can be seen from outer space.”

The second it leaves his mouth Bitty realizes he may have crossed a line and looks up at Sean in horror. They lock eyes for a few heartbeats before both burst into laughter.

“Lord, I am so sorry Sean, that was TMI Time with Bitty,” he gasps. “You did not need to know that, I’m sure.”

“It’s OK,” Sean says, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes, which are wet from laughter. “The whole point of me asking you questions is to make you feel comfortable and to get you to think about the person you are doing this for instead of the fact you are here with me. But it worked. Look.”

Sean holds the camera out so Eric can see the screen and goes back a few frames. Eric knows he is photogenic enough, but he’s still pleasantly surprised. In the photo he’s taping the hockey stick, eyeing it with a knowing hunger in his eyes while biting his lip. Eric’s pretty sure he’s looked at shirtless Jack with the exact same expression on multiple occasions, but he didn’t realize it was so … sultry. 

“Wow, that turned out … better than I expected,” Bitty says, feeling slightly less silly about the whole endeavor. 

“You’re doing great. I know it can feel awkward as we get started, but you’re doing a fantastic job,” Sean says with a kind smile. “I was thinking we could do sort of a post-game thing now, is that OK? What do you do after a game?”

“Well, mostly just strip down and hit the showers,” Bitty says, feeling himself blushing again. Honestly, it’s going to look like Sean’s done a photo shoot with a tomato.

“Would you feel comfortable with that?” Sean asks. “You don’t need to strip down all the way, maybe just take off your top pads?”

Bitty can do that, and he does, allowing Sean to shoot him from behind as he reaches up to take his pads off and then again from the front once they are off. Sean takes a few shots of him like that, naked from the waist up, lower body still covered in pads. They try a few with him holding the stick in different ways as well. The photographer then arranges him on the bench again, bent over, and takes a few shots of his back, Bitty bent over with his arms resting on his knees. Sean then comes around the front and asks Bitty to look up at him. It’s a bit intimidating to look right into the camera, so Sean tells him to pretend he’s looking at Jack just behind Sean’s shoulder. Bitty can feel a smile growing on his lips as Sean clicks away.

“Good,” Sean says, standing and scrolling through his camera to see what he’s captured so far. “I think we are done here. Do you want to keep with the hockey theme and do the scene where you are watching Jack’s game?”

“Sure, it will just take me a minute to get changed.”

“No problem,” Sean says, gathering his gear. “I’ll get set up in the living room and we can do the next scene.”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

It’s been a busy morning, but overall Jack is pleased with how his pre-season media day is shaping up so far.

Still reigning Bananagrams champ, but Poots and I lost The Newlywed Game to Tater and Snowy.

He’s just firing off the update to Bitty when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Shit Zimmermann, do you ever put your phone away? Are you tweeting this?”

And that is … not something Jack Zimmermann ever expected anyone to say to him. He feels the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile and a slight blush color his cheeks. His improved texting game is just one of the small ways Bitty has changed his life, but it makes him feel sort of warm and gooey inside.

“Just shooting Bittle an update on the morning,” Jack says, turning to find Thirdy behind him. “You know he’s the one who does most of the tweeting.”

“Oh, I know. I follow him. Dude’s hilarious,” Thirdy says with a smile. “You have a second?”

“Sure, what’s up?,” Jack says, allowing Thirdy to draw him aside and gesture with his shoulder down to the video shoot set up at the edge of the ice, where Luke Anderson is leaning on the boards and invading the personal space of an intern. 

“I know Andie’s been on a bit of a rebound since Savannah bailed, and what he does off the ice is his business.” Thirdy says quietly to his co-captain. “But I just can’t shake this bad feeling about the way he’s been flirting with that intern all morning. Am I just in over-protective dad mode, or is he giving off a ‘bang ‘em and leave ‘em’ vibe to this poor girl who has to stay through the end of the semester to get college credit?”

Jack appreciates that Thirdy knows to give him a few seconds to think it over before expecting a response, so he mulls the question for a moment. Being a support system for his teammates off the ice is one of his favorite parts of wearing the A, but the downside is having to intervene when they are doing something stupid or self destructive. Jack doesn’t like butting into other people’s business, but on the other hand he thinks it might have saved him a lot of trouble — and a near-death experience — if he’d had team leadership involved in his personal life when he was younger.

“I think it might be a good idea to talk to them. She’s probably a little star struck and kind of vulnerable,” Jack decides. “He’s been a little off lately, seems tired and off his game a bit, which is prime fodder for bad decision making. Do you want me to talk to them?”

“Why don’t you take Andie and I’ll try to get a minute with her,” Thirdy says with a resigned sigh. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Jack chuckles as Thirdy gives him a gentle punch on the shoulder and heads off. Jack’s got some interviews for FalcsTV to shoot next, so he’ll have to catch Anderson when they break for lunch. He pulls out his phone to check that he hasn’t missed a text back from Bitty. Nothing yet, which is unlike his phone-obsessed husband. Usually he’s so quick to respond. But Jack knows Bits was starting prep for a wedding job today, so maybe he’s just up to his elbows in pastry. Jack puts his phone away and heads off for his next stop on the day’s media carousel. 

_/ \\_ _/\\_

“Oh my God, you have a FAN,” Bitty practically screeches when he comes out of the bedroom in his Zimmermann Falconers jersey, blue short shorts and knee socks and sees the setup Sean has done in the living room. “It’s like I’m in a Beyonce video.”

“That’s exactly the atmosphere we’re going for,” Sean says with a laugh. “I think you mentioned that you had a playlist, too? Let’s put that on and see if we can get you feeling comfortable and sexy.”

That makes Bitty blush a little bit, but he murmurs assent and pads across the open floor plan to retrieve his phone from the kitchen. There are a couple of missed texts from Jack, he notices, but it’s nothing urgent and he’ll answer those later. He sets the phone on the Bose docking station in the entertainment center and pulls up the boudoir mix he created. Hopefully Queen Bey, Sia and Nicki can help him loosen up a bit and find his inner model.

“OK, so I was thinking we should make it look like you are watching one of your husband’s games, does that sound OK?” Sean asks, moving a large reflective panel into position.

“Sure, I think he’ll like that,” Bitty says, moving over to the couch. “I even saved the recording of one of his games so we can have it on the TV in the background.” 

“Great idea! Why don’t you get it queued up and then we’ll put you into place.”

They’re soon ready, and with the playlist blasting and the game in the background, Bitty is feeling a bit more relaxed. Sean talks him into doing some reaction shots on the couch, so he does a bit of jumping up and down and yelling “Goal!!!!!” Sean’s got the fan blasting and Bitty’s not quite sure, but he thinks it might be doing attractive things to his undercut. 

Sean then moves around behind the couch and asks Bitty to do the same thing so he can shoot him from behind.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to take photos of my behind, Mr. Covington,” Bitty chirps, turning to look at the photographer with his hands on his hips, his legs still turned towards the TV. He hears the shutter click several times and deepens his scowl. 

“Well I was going to, but that might have been the money shot right there,” Sean says with a laugh, crossing over to Bitty and showing him the camera. 

And he may be right. Bitty admittedly hasn’t seen himself do that look, but he’s almost certain it’s what Jack refers to as his “Mr. Zimmermann” face, because it’s the look Bitty gives his husband when he chirps him by his last name. And Jack makes no secret that the “Mr. Zimmermann” look is one he really, really likes, probably because it is usually followed by more chirping, which leads to kissing, which leads to … other activities that Bitty shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Or, well, he should to help set the mood for the shoot, but … 

“Well hopefully Jack likes it,” Bitty says out loud, reigning in his thoughts before they can run too far away. 

“He will. He’ll love all of them, because he loves you,” Sean says with a kind smile, backing up to his previous position. “And yes, I am going to take some posterior shots if that is OK with you. When we talked earlier you had mentioned your butt as one of the areas your husband finds attractive.”

“Well, yes … That. That’s true,” Bitty says, blushing again. “Lord, you had me babbling away so much I didn’t realize I was sharing so many intimate details. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“If I was uncomfortable I wouldn’t have asked the question. Besides, it’s important to know what your partner thinks is sexy and to know what makes you feel sexy, so we can emphasize that and you’ll end up with photos that you enjoy looking at, too.” 

“OK, that makes sense,” Bitty says, turning back to take his place on the couch. He takes a deep breath and lets it out again, trying to focus on “Partition” playing in the background. “You just tell me what you need me to do.”

“How about you rewind a bit so we can see your husband’s — did you call it a “hatty”? — again. Then just watch the game like you normally would. Celebrate when you are happy for him.” 

The shutter clicks away some more as Bitty jumps up and stands on the couch to celebrate. At one point Sean hands him a small Falconers flag that had been sitting in the pencil holder on the desk, and comes back around to the front to shoot a few more with Bitty waving it in celebration.

“Oh, I just had an idea,” Bitty says, pausing mid-celly. “Could I grab another prop? It’s just in the bedroom, it should only take a second.”

“Sure, go ahead. I love adding props,” Sean says. “Especially if it is something meaningful to the two of you.”

Bitty runs to the master bedroom, hops up on the bed and pulls down a large frame from where it hangs dead center over the headboard. It takes him a moment to get the back open and pull out the sign inside — reclaimed from a willing Shitty when he learned Bitty planned to use it to propose — and runs back to the living room.

‘Yo Marry Me Jack Zimmermann,” Sean reads as Bitty holds the sign up in front of his chest. “There’s got to be an interesting story there.”

“Well, yes. I mean, I used the sign to propose to Jack — I was holding it in the hallway outside the locker room after he scored his 100th goal— but it’s actually much older than that. Some poor girl actually brought it to one of our college games, and our friend Shitty — it’s a hockey nickname, don’t ask — had me use Twitter to track it down so he could keep it as a memento. He kept it for years but gave it back when I asked if I could use it in my proposal.”

“That’s so cute! OK, so obviously the setting here is different, but let’s have you up on your knees on the couch, and then hold the sign in front of your chest. Now tilt your head down … good. Now keep your chin down but look up at me through your eyelashes. Excellent!”

Sean clicks away a few more times before he allows Bitty to climb down from the couch. Sean lets him peer over his shoulder to see the photos, and Bitty is pretty pleased with the result. Bitty’s outfit is rather demure, but he knows the short shorts in Falconer blue along with him wearing Jack’s name and number drive Jack absolutely wild. The photos are the perfect mix of flirty and sexy, and while Bitty can see small flaws like his too-pale thighs and not-as-perky-as-it-used-to-be butt, he’s overall very pleased.

“OK, so should we move on to the kitchen? Can I get you a snack or something first? I’ve got peach pie or some snickerdoodles, or I could make you a sandwich … Oh, and how about some sweet tea or coffee? Or anything else you’d like to drink?”

“A glass of water would be great, but otherwise I’m fine,” Sean says. “You OK if I grab that while you change for the next scene?” Bitty nods and starts to head to the bedroom. “But I actually was noticing your pool table and was thinking we should do something with it. Do you guys use it often?”

Bitty has a moment of panic because yes he and Jack do use the pool table often — but not for actually playing pool. More to lean up against while receiving blowjobs or to bend the other person over to have sex. And even one very memorable occasion when Bitty had actually tried to fuck Jack on top of the pool table before they had both broken down laughing, admitting that it was extremely uncomfortable and moved to the bed. 

“Um, yes, well, I mean, sometimes? Not that often, but occasionally? When we have people over?” Bitty isn’t sure why he’s suddenly making every sentence a question, but Sean doesn’t seem to notice.

“OK, I know this is totally last minute, so feel free to say no, but what if we just did a quick shoot of you in some ‘normal’ clothes — maybe just a pair of jeans? — over here? Is that OK?”

“Sure, yes.” Bitty says, breathing out the stress. “I’ve got just the thing, I’ll be right back.”

He runs to the bedroom and finds the pair of skinny jeans that Jack seems particularly fond of sticking his huge hands into the back pockets of so he can cup Bitty’s butt, and one of Jack’s flannel shirts, a red plaid he’s had since Samwell that is soft with wear. He starts to button it up, but decides to leave it open. This is a boudoir shoot after all, he can’t be fully clothed the entire time.

“Will this work?” he says, walking back into the living room.

“Sure! Whatever you feel comfortable in. Is that your husband’s shirt?”

“Um, yes. Is that OK?”

“It’s perfect. I just asked because it looked a little big on you. But a lot of the people I shoot boudoir for end up saying that the photos of them in their partner’s clothes are some of their favorites. You husband is going to love it.”

Bitty’s pretty sure he is right. Jack does seem to love seeing Bitty snuggle in anything of Jack’s, whether it’s an old hoodie, his too-long pajama pants or cooking breakfast in the discarded dress shirt that always hits the bedroom floor when Jack gets home from a roadie.

Sean has Bitty rack up the balls and then take a few shots, many from behind again. Bitty’s not complaining now though, he knows his ass looks damn good in these jeans, especially bent over.

“Good, now just kind of put your cue down and sort of lean on it. Very casual. Good. Pull your shirt just a little to the left. Oh, actually, put your left hand in your pocket. Very good. Do you happen to have a beer?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, where are my manners? I should have offered that earlier when I was offering you a drink,” Bitty is already opening the fridge to pull out a bottle.

“Not for me, for you. As a prop.”

“Oh, OK … sure.”

“Great. OK, go ahead and lean on your cue again and take a swig. Great. Now just hold it there and look for your husband over my shoulder, like we did before. Good! How do you feel about getting a little suggestive with a beer bottle?”

Bitty laughs at that, but he’s willing to humor Sean at this point and so he runs his tongue around the rim a few times before he tries to drink a few more sips as seductively as he can until he swallows the wrong way and ends up in a coughing fit.

“Sorry, you OK? Maybe that was silly, but hopefully we’ll get a fun shot or two out of it. You ready to move on?”

“Sure,” Bitty sputters, still recovering. “Kitchen next? I’ll go change.”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

“Well we can’t all win the Jack Zimmermann Memorial Hockey Robot Award, now can we? Seriously dude, fuck off.”

Luke turns in a huff and starts to walk away, Jack staring dumbly after him. This is not going as well as Jack had hoped.

Social situations have never been Jack’s strong point, he knows that. But he feels like he’s been getting better over the last couple of years. And normally he would have talked a big captain conversation like this over with Bitty or Shitty in a practice run, but Shitty is in court and Bits is still not answering his phone or texts, which Jack is trying not to be anxious about.

He realizes Luke is almost down the hall and his chance at saving this is rapidly diminishing, so he sprints after and grabs Luke’s shoulder.

“Look, I … that’s not what I was trying to say,” Jack can practically feel the awkwardness creeping up his spine and taking over, but as he and Bitty have discussed, he tries to just lean in and own it by being sincere. “Sorry. I’m just … not very good at expressing myself in emotional situations. But if you’ll give me a second chance, I’d like to talk to you. Thirdy and I … we’re not trying to butt in to your personal life. We just want to help.”

Luke heaves a huge sigh and Jack can feel the tension seep out of Luke’s muscles where his hand is still resting on the younger man’s shoulder. 

“Shit. OK, yeah,” Luke says, running his hands down his face in an exhausted manner.

Jack backtracks a few steps and finds an empty meeting room — he likes these smaller ones because they have comfy chairs — and gestures Luke inside. They each take a seat, Luke slumping into one with a huff while Jack sits down gingerly across from him. Luke doesn’t seem inclined to start off the conversation, so Jack takes a deep breath and soldiers on ahead.

“So, like I said, I’m not great at this stuff, so I’ll just be blunt. You seem like you are in a bad place right now, and I know from personal experience that can lead to some bad decision making. So I’m just asking you to think long and hard before you start up something with that intern.”

“The intern?” Luke seems completely perplexed, which seems odd to Jack, as he just saw the two of them talking this morning. “Wait, Lauren? What about her? I thought this was about Savannah.”

“Uh Lauren, yeah,” Jack says, a bit confused. “I know she might seem interested, but she’s just a kid, eh? I just don’t want her to have to keep working here for months with a broken heart after you’ve pulled a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ because she has to finish the internship to get her college credit. And whether you realize it or not, you are in a position of power over her as a member of the team. So she really can’t give full consent to anything.”

“Dude, Lauren?” Luke says, with a look of something like disgust. “I’ve known her since I was in Juniors. She was the next door neighbor of my billet family. She’s literally like, my little sister. I would never … just, no. And if any of the other guys mess with her ...”

“Oh, OK,” Jack cuts him off, trying to end this conversation as quickly as possible. “Thirdy and I thought … but I guess there’s nothing to worry about then. And of course we can adopt her as a team little sister, if you like.”

“Sure, yeah, I hadn’t even thought about that,” Luke agrees. “Wait, so you thought I was hitting on her?”

Jack can feel the blush creeping up his face, so he just nods.

“OK, well that would literally never happen, like I said,” Luke says, slumping back into his chair, the defeated air that accompanied him into the room returning. “I haven’t hit on anyone since Savannah left. Can’t seem to hit anything on the ice, either, which is why I thought you wanted to chat.”

“Well, that too,” Jack says, hoping he sounds reassuring. 

“Shit. They’re gonna send me down, aren’t they?” Luke pales and his voice gets quiet as he realizes what he thinks is going to happen.

“No! Oh, fuck, no. Sorry. I … am really bad at this,” and crisse but Jack wishes he could have talked through this with Bitty. Why won’t he answer his phone? “No, you’re not getting sent down. We just … Thirdy and I, I mean? We noticed that you’d been a little down and wanted to see how we can help.”

Luke’s face crumples a bit, and he looks like he’s fighting back tears.

“I just … I don’t know. I just can’t get it together since she left. And I mean it’s my own fault, I fucked it up. Couldn’t keep it in my pants. I just … I didn’t realize what I had, you know? And now it’s too late, and I don’t know how to get it back.”

Luke’s voice breaks as he cups his face in his hands, elbows leaning on his knees as his body shakes. Jack takes a moment, breaths to keep himself calm, and runs through what he wants to say. As tempting as it is to open up a Shitty-style lecture on toxic masculinity, Jack is thinking that’s not what’s called for right now. Instead, he wonders, maybe Luke needs to hear a little bit about his own missed chances.

“Hey, listen,” Jack says in what he hopes is a soothing voice, reaching out to rub Luke’s shaking shoulder. “Look, I … I know something about almost missing your chance with the person you love. I almost missed my chance with my husband because I was too blind to see what we had until it was almost too late.”

Luke is wiping his eyes now, and if Bittle was here he’d have a hankie to offer, but Jack doesn’t and he thanks the powers that be once again for his kind, loving husband who has at least assured that the hockey robot has a small bit of emotional intelligence to offer instead.

“But Luke, here’s the thing. The reason I almost missed it? It was because I was too big of a jerk to see what a great person Bittle is. I treated him horribly when we first met, and I still can’t believe he was ever able to look past that and become my friend, let alone the love of my life. But I had to be the one to change. It never would have worked if I’d stuck to my old ways. And I think it’s the same for you, eh?”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds a lot like me,” Luke says with a sniffle. “I mean, I knew that I loved her, but I guess I didn’t see what we had until she left. God, I miss her so much. I’m such a fuckup.”

“So, and please tell me to fuck off if you need to, but why did you keep hooking up on the road if you were in love with Savannah? Couldn’t you see that was hurting her?” Jack asks, genuinely perplexed, because the idea of wanting someone else is something he can’t fathom, let alone doing something that would bring Bitty that much pain.

“I guess I just … I thought that was the whole NHL package. I thought it was what I was supposed to do? That’s supposed to be the perks of the job, right?”

Jack is pretty sure that from the way Luke is shrinking back now that he is probably wearing his Captain face, and not the version Bitty tells him is sexy. 

“What on earth would make you think that? Do you see anyone else on the team doing that? Anyone who is in a committed relationship, I mean?”

“Er, no. And I mean I have no excuse, I knew what I was doing,” Luke says, visibly ashamed. “Savannah deserves better. You’re right.” 

“Damn right I’m right. And she does deserve better,” Jack can feel the stormy look on his face and takes a deep breath to try to calm himself. “Look, Luke. You really fucked up, eh? But it also sounds like maybe you are finally willing to change. Maybe it’s worth trying to talk to Savannah and see if you can work back up to building a relationship of trust? I wouldn’t blame her if she slammed the door in your face, but …”

“Yeah, yeah, I’d totally deserve it,” Luke says, nodding as he leans forward. “But I think maybe … at least, I’ll ask. And if she says no at least I’ll get some closure, right? But God I hope she says yes. Because I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“OK …” Jack’s at a loss for what to say next, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Luke has bounded up and is hugging him tightly.

“Thanks, Cap. I … I really needed that. And you’re right, I have to be willing to change or I’ll miss my chance. I’m gonna go call her now. You’re really good at this.”

“Uh, sure. Sure, anytime,” is all Jack can squeeze out before he collapses into the chair, exhausted. It’s almost time for lunch, but he pulls out his phone to call Bittle, needing the little pick-me-up of his husband’s voice. Bittle will want to know anyway, Jack reasons, as the phone rings and rings, since he’s close with Savannah. Jack finds himself hoping they can make it work as the “Hey ya’ll” of Bitty’s voicemail clicks on. Jack hangs up without leaving a message and pulls himself up to head to lunch.

_/ \\_ _/\\_

“Great, that looks appetizing, in more ways than one!” Sean beams and crosses to Bitty to let him see the shot of himself demurely wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron, holding a pie and gazing up through his eyelashes. “OK, let’s do some with you taking it out of the oven.”

Bitty leans over, arching his back as Sean has requested so that his ass is straining his shorts and Sean can capture the familiar scene of him bent over the oven.

“I’m just glad Queen Elizabeth isn’t turned on! Jack surprised me like this once and got a bad burn on his foot from molten pie filling. Luckily it was the off season,” Bitty is prattling, and notices that the shutter has stopped clicking and turns to see Sean staring intently at the camera. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s great! I just was wondering — how would you feel about trying this without the shorts? You can totally say no if that makes you uncomfortable, I just think this could be even more tantalizing if we show some more skin.”

Bitty chews his lip for a moment, mulling it over. Is he really ready to bare it all — or well, at least some — for this?

“Um … yes. Let’s … OK. Let’s try it,” he says with a sigh, moving over to the dining area and stripping off the shorts. He starts to remove the apron but Sean stops him.

“No, leave the apron on, it’s perfect. We don’t want to show everything, just a little more. If that’s OK?”

“Lord yes, I feel much better about that. Can I leave this jockey on?”

“Sure, if that makes you feel comfortable. It’s whatever feels OK to you.”

Bitty tries leaning over again and has to admit that he does feel very sexy. Jack loves him in a jockey — hockey-themed lingerie is always popular in their home — and he loves the juxtaposition against his baking. He gets to display a whole bunch of the things that make him him, and while he knows Jack will find it incredibly appealing, it’s also helping him feel more comfortable and confident in his own skin. Much of which is still on display as Sean turns to shoot a few from the side.

“OK, this is great. You can put your shorts back on if you want,” Sean says, glancing around the kitchen as Bitty moves to dress. “This might seem weird, but do you have anything you could lick?”

“Like a popsicle?”

“Well, I was thinking more something you could lick off your finger, or maybe a spatula?”

Bitty thinks for a moment before pulling out a mixing bowl full of cream cheese icing he is planning to use for mini carrot cakes tomorrow. He can make more if needed. “Will this work?”

“Perfect. Just scoop some up on your finger and start licking it off. Imagine Jack’s here and you’re trying to get him to think of your mouth doing other things.”

Bitty can feel the blush creeping down his chest, but it is very tasty icing if he does say so himself, so it’s not hard to lick it off his fingers.

“Hang on, can I just …” Sean steps over and indicates the mixing bowl.

“Sure hon, whatever you need to do.”

Sean proceeds to scoop up a bit of the icing and dab it on Bitty’s face, around his mouth. He pulls back and starts clicking away again. That will be cute, Bitty thinks, wrapping his tongue around his finger and slowly licking up. He’s starting to feel a little ill from the richness of all the cream cheese and sugar, so he’s trying to go slow so he won’t have to eat much more.

“OK, let me just …” Sean goes quiet for a moment, then utters a “holy shit” under his breath.

“What’s wrong? Is everything OK?” Bitty rushes over, worried he’s embarrassed himself.

“Uh, yeah, these just got a little more graphic than I had intended,” Sean says, clicking back through the screen to show Bitty.

The first ones are of Bitty happily eating frosting, trying to be sultry but coming off as slightly goofy. But then come the shots where Sean has dabbed white gobs of icing onto his face, and then moved in close so that the mixing bowl is out of the shot and … yeah, that looks a lot less like icing and a lot more like Bitty cleaning himself up after giving Jack a spectacular handjob.

“Oh, well,” Bitty can tell he’s flushing Samwell crimson. “That does look a little more um, erotic? Than I was expecting.”

“Me too. That’s going to be a favorite for your husband, I can tell,” Sean is clearly trying to move back into business mode and put Bitty at ease. “Do you want to do the balcony shoot next? I’m worried it is going to start to get chilly if we don’t get out there soon.”

“It’s chilly now! Honestly, I will never get used to you hot-blooded Northerners who think a brisk wind is refreshing instead of frigid,” Bitty huffs off to the bedroom to get ready for his next scene.

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Jack’s the last one to wander in for the late lunch the Falcs have put on, still thumbing his phone in hope that he’s missed a text from Bittle. Well not the last one, he sees as he does a quick scan of the room for Luke, who must be off calling Savannah. Jack puts his phone back in his pocket and grabs a tray before sitting down at his usual table with a huff.

“Zimmboni! Still sad I beat you in Newlywed Game, yes?” Tater booms, elbowing Jack. “Snowy and I, we are media day grand champions. Very big deal.”

Even through his worry, it’s impossible not to smile at Tater.

“Sure Tates, you’re the champions. The rest of us don’t stand a chance,” Jack says, leaning across the table to catch Thirdy’s attention and dropping his voice to a whisper. “Talked to Andie, it’s all good. Not the situation we were thinking.”

“Thank God,” Thirdy practically yells back. “I’m too old for this high school-drama shit. This is it. I’m done after this season. Jack, it’s gonna be all on you.”

“Thirdy, you say this every year I am knowing you,” Tater says with a laugh. “You are not old, is only small childrens making you tired.”

“Hey, nothing will age you like having kids, I swear. Get a good look at Zimmermann now, because once that baby comes this glorious specimen is going to be a sad, tired, cranky old fart.”

“Zimmboni is already these things, only no one notice because he is so pretty,” Tater says, elbowing Jack again and startling him out of his worrying. “Zimmboni, you are alright? Seem not like you. Different kind of cranky from normal.”

“Yeah, I’m fine Tater. Just … it’s silly, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of Bittle all day.”

“You are worried about Bitty-baker? What is worry?”

“Nothing, really. I’m sure it’s all fine. It’s just, it’s not like him to not reply, you know? He’s normally glued to his phone.”

“Hmm, he hasn’t tweeted much today either. Ouch!” Thirdy yelps, rubbing his shin, which Tater has clearly kicked under the table. “But I’m sure he’s fine Jack. Probably just got busy. He gets in kind of a zone, right?”

“Yeah, that’s usually only if he’s stressed or upset though,” Jack says. He shakes himself to brush it off. “You’re right, I’m sure it’s not a big deal. Just not really like him, but I’m sure I’d have gotten a call if something was really wrong.”

“Well, get used to it man. That baby is gonna mean you guys don’t talk for days at a time,” Thirdy says, picking up his tray. “I’m lucky if Carrie notices I’m alive some days. Wouldn’t trade it for anything though. Plus it makes the date night sex even better. See you guys on the ice.”

“Yeah, see you in there,” Jack says, turning his focus to his tray so he can shovel in enough calories before hitting the ice for the optional skate. 

“Is nothing to worry, Zimmboni. Baby will not come between you and B,” Tater says, standing to leave, too. “I will babysit. You get vigorous date night sex, I get pie and jam, yes? Good.”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Bitty is pretty sure his nipples are going to fall off. 

New Englanders may refer to this fall weather as “brisk,” but even though he’s been here for almost a decade now, Eric has yet to acclimate. The afternoon sun is streaming down onto the balcony where they’ve created the scene, but there’s a breeze coming in and Bitty’s wearing nothing but maple leaf-themed boxers, scarf and socks while sporting Jack’s Team Canada toque and mitts from the 2018 Olympics.

He’s also clutching a fake cup of Annie’s coffee for nostalgia, and posing on a Hudson’s Bay point blanket someone gave them as a wedding gift. Apparently no Canadian home is complete without one, though the wool has always seemed a bit scratchy to Eric — a belief that is being born out by all of the skin-to-blanket contact he is currently experiencing. Overall, maybe this Canadian shack thing wasn’t such a great idea.

“I think my nipples are going to fall off,” Bitty says, trying to keep his teeth from chattering while Sean clicks away. 

“Nah, it’s great. They’re very perky,” Sean replies with a smirk, moving around to the other side of the balcony to make some sort of adjustment. “We could get you wrapped up in the blanket though, if you’d like. Cuddling for warmth, and all that. That’s a thing in Canada too, right?”

“Yep,” Bitty says, trying not to blush. “Sure is. Guess they love those old tropes just as much as we do.”

Bitty knows for a fact that they do, since his entire inspiration for this scene was a 26,000-word Canadian shack fan fic he found that featured Jack and Sidney Crosby huddling for warmth after getting stuck out in a blizzard during a game of shinny on the pond at Sid’s house in Nova Scotia. It ended with some of the most spectacular smut writing Bitty has ever read, and now he feels himself blushing every time he runs into Sid at events. He’s never wanted to share his husband, but if he ever did … Good Lord. The two best booties in hockey, how’s a sweet little Southern boy supposed to say no to that? But for now he’ll just keep that in his wank bank for when Jack is on roadies. So far Jack remains blissfully unaware of his popularity on Tumblr and AO3. 

“Wherever you went, feel free to stay there,” he hears Sean say softly. “It’s making you blush like crazy and Jack is going to love it.”

“Well I did go away there for a minute, but where I want to go is inside,” Bitty chirps back. “Do you think we’re good here? It’s starting to get late, we should wrap up in plenty of time before Jack gets home.”

“Sure, we can be done. We’ve only got the bedroom scene left, but I want to make sure we have plenty of time for that.”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Jack pauses in the tunnel for a moment, watching the guys out on the ice while pulling out his phone one more time before heading into the locker room. He stares at his message history with Bittle, but the same three dots indicating that Bitty is typing are still just sitting there, though no message has arrived.

He’s putting his phone back in his pocket with a sigh and turning to head into the locker room, lost in his own head and not looking where he’s going, when he bumps into Georgia.

“Oh! Sorry! George I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No need to go full Canadian Zimmermann, I’m fine,” she says with a smile. “How do you think the boys are looking?”

Jack turns back to the ice to see Snowy and Poots piling on Tater. None of them are wearing pads, as the skate isn’t a true practice, more of just a way to let off steam after a full media day and get some footage of the team fooling around for Falcs TV. 

“Pretty good,” Jack says, eyes drifting over the moving figures on the ice as he worries his lower lip between his teeth.

“Obviously we have a lot of ground to gain after the off season, and the rookies need time to gel, but I think Mitchum’s speed is going to be a great asset, and Prince seems like a really solid addition to the D... and … I’ve totally lost you.”

“Hmm?” Jack says, turning back, “Oh sorry George, yes, rookies need to gel, yeah.”

“Jack? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, I’m always happy to talk about hockey, you know that George.”

“This is more personal,” George says, reaching out to touch him on the shoulder. “Are you OK? I know this is a touchy thing to ask someone with an anxiety disorder, but you seem … well, anxious about something, and it doesn’t seem to be hockey.”

Jack feels a blush spread across his cheeks, embarrassed that his worry over Bittle has bubbled over to affect his work. At the same time, he’s touched that George would ask, knows him well enough to see when his anxiety is becoming a problem and instead of judging him for it, offer a sympathetic ear. This team really has become another family for him, and for Bittle.

“It’s just … it’s silly really. I just haven’t heard from Bittle all day, and I’m worried something might be wrong.”

“Do you think he may be hurt or in danger?” George immediately shifts into manager mode.

“No, nothing like that,” Jack says, glad to see her visibly relaxing. “It’s just … he normally texts me throughout the day and today I haven’t heard from him. I’m sure he’s just busy, but my anxiety gets me thinking about bad scenarios. Like somehow the condo caught fire and no one called and he’s stuck in there, or, more likely, I did something stupid and emotionally unintelligent and now he’s not speaking to me and I’m not sure what or why,” Jack shares a wry smile with George at that. “Silly, eh?”

“Not silly at all. I’ve done the same thing myself before, I think we all have. And I’m sure everything is fine,” George says sympathetically before breaking out in a grin. “But you’re no good to me in this state. You’d better head home to that handsome husband of yours and see what’s going on.”

“Thanks, but I can’t leave. The guys would be pissed that I got to miss the skate,” Jack says, nodding over to the ice, where the guys seem to be lining up to do trick shots on Snowy. Jack tries not to let the imaginary A that is always resting on his chest itch at the squandered ice time. It’s been a long day, they deserve to let off some steam.

“It’s fine. Honestly the only reason we scheduled a practice was to get some goofy stuff for Falcs TV and let the guys loosen up a bit,” George says with a shrug. “I’ll tell Coach the media day had your anxiety flaring up a bit and I decided to send you home. It’s the truth.”

Jack thinks for a moment, torn between being there for his team or his husband. But Papa’s adage that Some things are worth more than the Stanley Cup wins out, and he pulls George into a half hug.

“Thanks, George.”

“Got your back, Zimmermann. But I expect this moment to be remembered the next time pie or jam orders come around,” she says with a smile, giving him a gentle hip check. “Now go get your boy.”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Bitty tightens the towel one more time, an outlet for his fitful energy, a little shiver of nerves running up his spine. His favorite shots of Carrie were her curled up on the bed in nothing but a rumpled sheet, and while he and Sean have planned this and he’s feeling more and more confident as the day goes on, he’s still a little nervous about being completely naked. Which is silly. He’s literally spent years in locker rooms being naked around dozens of other guys. This just seems a little more … revealing, somehow.

“Everything OK?” Sean calls from the bedroom, tapping on the bathroom door.

“Sure, yes, fine,” Bitty says pulling the door open. “Sorry, just getting myself a little pep talk.”

“No problem. I actually had an idea I wanted to run by you, but looks like you may have been thinking the same thing,” Sean says, nodding toward the towel slung low around Bitty’s hips. “What do you think about trying a shower scene?”

Is Bitty this obvious? How is Sean managing to hit on all of these scenarios that he never mentioned in their planning?  
“How did you … um, well, I mean. But I didn’t mention …” 

“Eric. I’m a man. I think just about every guy out there has a thing for shower sex. Especially in a shower like this,” he gestures to the giant rainfall shower like he knows Jack has tested the strength of those glass walls by fucking Bitty up against them. “If you aren’t comfortable I completely understand, and we don’t have to do it. But I think it has the potential to be some of the best stuff we shoot today.”

“OK. Yeah, you’re right. And we do use the shower for, um, I mean, yeah.” Bitty has given up on keeping himself from blushing for this next bit. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, I know this is a little more than we had talked about, but I’d really love to shoot you nude if you would be willing. We’ll keep it very tasteful, no full frontal or anything, but I think if we can get the shots I have in mind, you’ll be very pleased.”

Bitty acquiesces, and Sean is quickly puttering away setting up equipment before turning on the shower, scorching hot and filling the entrance with steam.

“OK, keep your towel on and drop it just as you get to the door,” Sean instructs. Bitty walks forward, and sends up a little prayer of thanks that he can’t hear the click of the shutter over the shower. 

“Perfect, now pause right there,” Sean instructs as the towel puddles at Bitty’s feet. “Now, keep your body facing that direction, but turn and look over my shoulder. Imagine Jack is there and you are asking him to join you.”

Bitty shakes himself for a second and tries to imagine Jack, standing at the sink and brushing his teeth after his protein shake and banana, still sweaty from his run. “You interested in joining me, Mr. Zimmermann,” he whispers faintly as he turns to allow Sean to get the shot. 

“Perfect. Now, I want to get some ass shots, so let’s have you put your arms up on the door frame and lean,” Bitty can feel the steam billowing around his knees as he feels Sean move closer to get the shot. It makes goosebumps climb up his back, despite the heat.

“OK, take a little break, and let’s turn off the water,” Sean says. Bitty turns off the water and grabs his towel before moving around to look over Sean’s shoulder. He’s tilted his steamed-up glasses up on top of his head and is holding the camera out at arms length. “OK, I can’t see worth a damn, but I think we got some good stuff. What do you think?”

And Bitty … knows, intellectually, that the confident, defined back belongs to him, but for some reason it almost seems to belong to someone else. Someone who is comfortable in his own skin, who spends hours posing in steamy showers and giving seductive glances over his shoulder to invite a mysterious off-camera companion to join him. It looks like the same person Bitty sees in the mirror each morning, but somehow … better. 

“I … how is that me?”

Sean smiles as he wipes his glasses and puts them back on, looking back at the camera.

“That’s the Eric your husband sees every day. That’s actually my favorite part of boudoir jobs. I get to show people how their spouse sees them, and it’s always a huge confidence booster.”

“Yeah, it is …” Bitty loses himself in thought for a moment. Is that really what Jack sees? He’s always been confident in Jack’s affection from the first moment his then-future husband ran across campus to kiss him speechless. But he’s always felt that while he is certainly attractive, his Adonis of a husband was an 11 settling for a solid 7. But the man giving the come-hither look over his shoulder as he steps into the steaming shower is HOT. Maybe Jack hasn’t been settling for all this time after all. “Sorry, what’s next? Into the bedroom?”

“I’d love to get you under the shower spray for a moment if you’re up for it.”

“Sure thing sugar, you just tell me what you need.”

He ends up basking in the warmth of the water while Sean shoots him artfully exposing his neck, and Bitty is so, so glad he trusted Sean enough to give this scene - and this shoot - a chance.

“Alright, now for the bedroom?” Bitty asks, toweling off vigorously and trying to artfully tousle his hair. 

“Yep, I’ll get all set up. You may want to make sure you’re dry though, I’m gonna have the fan going out there. Those nipples aren’t done for the day.”

“Mr. Covington are you chirping me?”

“I’m not sure what exactly that means, but I’m guessing yes.”

Bitty shoos him out the door and grabs the hair dryer. If that fan is running, his hair game better be on point.

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Jack tries calling Bittle from the car, just to see if he’ll pick up. He knows he’s letting his anxiety get the better of him, but he’s genuinely concerned at this point. His plan to offer to stop and pick up dinner or any other comforting thing that might help Bittle with whatever he is going though seems futile. He’s tempted to just go straight home, visions of Bitty collapsed on the kitchen floor running through his head, but tries to remember that the most likely scenario is that he’s just been busy with this catering job. A sugary latte is never unwelcome though, Jack has learned, so he swings by the drive thru of their favorite coffee shop and snags the seasonal offering. White chocolate peppermint, by the smell.

He’s actually feeling quite a bit better by the time he’s parked the truck and riding the elevator up to their unit. The sense of unease returns though when door opens and he isn’t hit by a blast of cinnamon and butter wafting down the hallway that indicate Bittle has been hard at work. 

It grows stronger when he unlocks the door and comes into a dark and quiet entry way. He quickly toes off his shoes and heads for the kitchen.

“Bits? You in here?”

The kitchen is dark as well, though there does seem to be evidence that something was happening, as there is a single pie cooling and a seemingly random bowl of cream-cheese icing sitting on the counter. Jack absently leaves the latte next to the sink and digs into a drawer to cover the bowl with plastic wrap and put it back in the fridge. Could Bittle be out? Maybe he’s working at the kitchen space he occasionally rents for big gigs instead and forgot his phone?

He’s walking back down the hall to check that Bittle didn’t leave his phone by the key bowl when he hears faint music coming from their bedroom. He must have missed it before in his eagerness to get to the kitchen. He’s not sure why Bittle is jamming out to Nicki in the bedroom, but he’s flooded with relief, as well as mild curiosity. As he gets closer to the room he realizes it is LOUD, bass thumping and something that sounds like a ceiling fan running full blast. He calls out as turns the knob and walks into the room.

“Hey bud, you in h …” and stops short. Bittle is spread out on the bed, naked, or at least Jack assumes so. One leg and his dick are covered in an artful ruffle of sheet. This would not be unheard of, but for the fact that a tall, dark haired man is standing over him, clicking away on a camera. “Bits?”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

Luxuriating is probably the best word to describe what Bitty is doing on the bed, stretching an arm and turning his head into the soft afternoon light so it can play against his exposed throat and catch the gold in his hair. His nerves are completely gone and he just feels good. That is, until he hears his husband calling him in a questioning voice.

“Jack! Oh my god, what are you doing here?” He leaps up, looking around Sean and knocking him from his perch on the bed while simultaneously scrambling to turn off the music. “Oh my god, Sean, I’m so sorry. Jack. It’s … it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Jack’s face is inscrutable. “Because it looks like you are doing a porn shoot.”

“Mr. Zimmermann, I would NEVER. This is a boudoir shoot, it is TASTEFUL,” he says, stomping his foot on the bed in a vain attempt to show his indignation. The action makes him realize he’s still stark naked and Bitty’s not proud of the shriek that comes out as he scrambles to cover up with the sheet.

Jack seems to have gone full Canadian for the moment and is reaching out a hand to help Sean up from where he’s fallen.

“Hi. Jack Zimmermann, Eric’s husband.”

“Right. Sean Covington, I’m a photographer,” Sean says, rearranging his clothes, which have become rumpled in his fall. 

“So I gathered. Nice setup,” Jack appears to be checking out the set of reflectors Sean has placed. Bitty feels like he’s in some sort of weird fever dream.

“I’m just gonna let myself out, head downstairs for a bit, give you guys some time to chat,” Sean says, turning to go. “Eric, I can text you later and we can figure out all the equipment.”

Sean leaves and closes the door with a click that seems very loud in the silence of the room. 

“So what’s up bud?” Jack asks, taking off his Falcs hat and placing it on the dresser while still gazing around the room. 

Bitty finds that he has slumped down on the bed, pulling his sheet-clad knees up to his chest and hugging them to himself. 

“Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Jack is immediately at his side, sitting down and pulling him close and pressing kisses to his hair. “No, I’m not mad, why would I be? I mean I’m definitely a little confused, but …”

He continues to hold Bitty, who allows himself a moment to try and blink away the tears that were threatening to spill over. This is one of the things Bitty has come to appreciate most in their relationship. That Jack doesn’t need an answer right away, that he understands what it is like to need a moment to reply, and doesn’t expect Bitty to immediately know what to say. That it is alright to take a moment to just be, and breathe, and put your mind back together after it has skittered off for the moment. He takes a deep breath and summons up what he wants to say.

“I know this must look crazy, but it’s not anything fishy,” he says, as Jack pulls back a bit to meet his gaze, still with his arms wrapped tightly around Bitty. “It’s a boudoir shoot. I was trying to take some sexy photos for you. As a gift.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Bits. I’m so sorry I interrupted,” Jack presses more kisses to his hair, and honestly how is his husband being so calm about this? “I came home early because I was worried about you. Hadn’t heard from you all day.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry sweetheart. I should have replied. I was so busy with all of this and the different scenes and all.” 

“There are different scenes?”Jack’s whole body seems to spring to attention at that. “Sorry, go ahead. What brought all this on?”

Bitty starts out telling Jack about Carrie’s photos and how empowering the experience was for her, how it seemed like a fun gift for him to take on the road, but he quickly finds himself spiraling and spilling all his insecurities. 

“And then I just worry, because I know you love me, but my body isn’t what it was at Samwell. And with the baby coming, we’ll have so many late nights and we won’t get to have sex as often, or maybe ever, so I wanted to give you a way to … to still have that, I guess, so you don’t feel like you have to go out and find some puck bunny while you are on the road.”

“Bits, I would never …”

“I know, I know. But just, it’s not going to be the same. And I’m not going to be the same. I’m already not. My hockey butt is a thing of the past, sweetheart, and meanwhile here you are in your prime. We’ve always been a mismatched couple, but the contrast is becoming starker by the day and I just don’t want you to feel like you are settling …” Bitty trails off as he begins to notice the look of utter bafflement on his husband’s face. “Honey, you OK?”

“Bittle. Eric,” Jack takes both of his hands in his larger ones, and it must be serious if he’s actually using Bitty’s first name. “You’re beautiful. You know that, right?”

“You charmer. I know that YOU think that, and it’s really the only thing that matters, but let’s not pretend this is a marriage of equals.”

Jack’s face is still incredulous.

“How can you … do you really not know? Bits, you are gorgeous. I mean, I love you inside and out and you have the best personality and the most giving heart of anyone I’ve ever met, but you are also just … you’re HOT. Hang on.”

Jack hops up and runs to the walk-in closet, rummaging around for a moment before emerging with his own DSLR. He’s thumbing over the controls as he sits back down beside Bitty, handing him the camera and pointing to the screen.

“Just … look, OK? I want to try to get you to see what I see.”

Bitty starts scrolling through the memory card, past the dozens of shots of the sunrise at the end of their block that Jack posted on Instagram the other day and aesthetic shots of the rink, the locker room and all the other hockey-related things that tend to make up the majority of Jack’s social media shares. But interspersed are shots of Bitty. Of him snuggled up in a blanket on the balcony, pouring over a new cookbook as the soft evening light streams in. In the kitchen, coyly smiling up at Jack who tried to catch him unawares while making a stir fry. Dancing with abandon as he dusts the living room. Lying on the couch flushed, eyes huge and bright with fever, fighting off a cold. In the park, backlit on a morning run together. A wide-angle shot reaching out and holding Jack’s hand while laughing as they walk to their favorite bistro. 

The thing is, it’s not like Bitty didn’t know that Jack was taking his picture. He’s not subtle, and while he may not ask permission every single time, he’s made sure Bitty understands that he can tell him to stop if it gets annoying. It’s just … he never realized how many photos Jack actually takes of him. And not only that, but how damn good the photos are. And how beautiful Bitty looks in each one. Is this really what Jack sees? What EVERYONE sees?

“Jack, these are … they’re really beautiful.”

“YOU are really beautiful, Bits,” Jack says emphatically, crushing Bitty to him in a tight hug, still murmuring into his hair. “You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m so sorry that I don’t do enough to show you that. I know I take too many photos and it can get annoying, but … I just … I want to capture every single second, because you make me so much happier than I ever thought I’d be.”

“Jack, sweetheart …”

“No, let me finish, I need to get this out. I need you to know. Bits, when I walk down the street with you, I’m so proud. Partly because you are the best man I’ve ever known, but also because there is some shallow part of me that can’t believe this gorgeous creature is willing to hold my hand. And don’t think I don’t notice other people checking you out. Men and women, both. And while it makes me jealous, it also makes me so smug, because you’re with me. I love you so much, and you will always be beautiful to me, OK? You always have been, no matter what, and you grow more gorgeous every day as we build this life together.”

They’re both a little misty eyed at this point, and Bitty pulls back before he can make a mess of Jack’s T-shirt. 

“Honey, thank you. That was just what I needed to hear. And thank you for sharing those photos with me.”

“Of course Bits. I should have been showing you all along. I had no idea you were feeling this way.”

“I know, it’s silly, it’s just … I guess I felt like I needed to do this since nobody asked me to be in the ESPN Body Issue like some people we know,” Bitty smiles, giving Jack a gentle shove.

“Is that what I have to look forward to? “Tantalizing shots but no sign of the money maker,” I think was your description of my magazine appearance,” Jack smiles, ducking in to nip at Bitty’s ear and kiss his throat.

“Oh you’ll see my, er, money maker, alright, but no shots of my … good lord, I can’t keep up the metaphors with you nibblin’ at me like that. There’s no dick pics.”

That sends Jack into a fit of giggles, shaking with laughter as he buries his head in Bitty’s shoulder. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty sits back and folds his arms, scowling.

“Oh god, Bits. I love you,” Jack pulls back, still smiling. “And that is an absolute tragedy. Your dick is a masterpiece that deserves to be immortalized.”

“Really? You think it’s that good, huh?” he pulls Jack in, pressing soft, slightly open-mouthed kisses against his lips. 

“Best I’ve ever seen,” Jack murmurs, “and I’ve seen a lot.”

“Oh my god, Jack!” Bitty swats at him, pulling away slightly.

“Just in locker rooms!” Jack smiles and leans back in. “But yours is definitely the best. Your whole body is the best. I wish …” he stills and pulls back a bit.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Crisse, it’s stupid. I was just going to say I wish you’d let me be the one to photograph you that way.”

And that … is a new idea. Bitty feels his face heat, blush spreading down his chest. 

“Is that … would you be interested, in doing something like that, I mean?”

“Well, I never really thought about it, but now that I know it’s a thing … Yeah Bits. I would love to photograph you. And maybe even in more um, intimate ways, if you would be OK with that?”

“Oh my god! That’s so kinky!” Jack is blushing now. “No, sweetheart, not in a bad way, just … that could be really fun.”

“OK. I think so too,” Jack is blushing now, and ducks down to kiss Bitty’s shoulder to hide “So, what now? You want to go get some dinner, or …”

“Or what, Mr. Zimmermann? Hit the gym? File our taxes? Look at paint samples? Or did you have some other activity in mind?” Bitty leans back against the pile of pillows against the headboard.

Jack’s smile is wolfish now.

“Well, I mean you’re here, totally naked. Seems like it would be a waste to get dressed so soon and pass up this chance …” Jack’s voice fades as he moves down the bed, trailing kisses down Bitty’s chest. 

“Oh yes, well we don’t want to be wasteful do we … ah!” Bitty gasps as Jack’s teeth graze over a nipple. “Oh honey, yeah, just like that.”

“Feel good?” Jack glances up as he shifts, pulling the sheet aside from where it has pooled around Bitty’s waist and settling himself in between Bitty’s knees.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You know I love the feel of your mouth on me.”

Bitty closes his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him as Jack moves further down, nuzzling at his navel before tracing down his (almost non-existent) happy trail with his tongue. Jack’s teeth nip at his inner thighs before his tongue moves up to the crease of Bitty’s thigh, breath ghosting over his pubic hair and now fully-erect cock. Jack buries his nose in the hair, taking in the scent of body wash that Bitty is sure still lingers, before licking a long stripe up his dick, lapping at the slit for the tiny bead of precum that has started to form. 

Bitty shifts up a bit, opening his eyes hazily and propping himself on the pillows so he can see Jack. He’s still fully clothed, and the sensation of his T-shirt between Bitty’s thighs and his jeans against Bitty’s ankles adds another layer to the sensuality of his experience. Jack’s lips slip around the head of Bitty’s cock and his warm hand wraps around the shaft, and Bitty’s head falls back again as Jack takes him deeper.

He gives himself up to the sensation, warm and comfortable in the bed, Jack’s hot mouth wet around him, his hand working in a slow, steady rhythm that makes heat curl in Bitty’s gut. Bitty knows he babbles when he gets like this, clutching at the sheets and moaning nonsense. But Jack has made it clear he loves it, so Bitty abandons all thought of trying to be coherent. 

He becomes aware that he’s not the only one moaning, and looks up again to see Jack, lips red and slick with spit, eyes closed, with one hand around Bitty’s cock and the other pressing against the buttons of his own jeans. 

“Good lord, that’s hot. Honey, you OK?”

Jack nods around Bitty’s cock, taking him deeper and adding more suction as he makes a tight ring around Bitty’s cock with his fingers. Jack’s other hand moves from his own crotch to grasp at Bitty’s, and pulls it into his hair. Bitty pulls, just barely enough to hurt, the way he knows Jack likes, simultaneously giving him a gentle push down to take Bitty’s cock even deeper. 

They’re both moaning now, Bitty tightening his grip on Jack’s hair as his head bobs up and down, Bitty’s cock hitting the back of Jack’s throat as they move together. Jack’s stray hand comes up to stroke Bitty’s perineum and ghost over his hole as his other gets tighter, moving faster as Bitty tries not to fuck too hard into Jack’s mouth. He call feel his orgasm beginning to crest and taps Jack in warning. But Jack just swallows him down even deeper, into the hot, tight wetness of his throat, his thumb applying steady, aching pressure to his prostate through the skin, just enough to heighten the sensation. Jack gives a choking wail as his nose nestles in Bitty’s hair, swallowing him all the way down, and Bitty comes, his orgasm bursting out of him and crashing over in waves as he pulses again and again, so hard and for so long he sees stars.

“Oh my god. Sweetheart, are you OK?” He can barely raise his head to check on Jack, who wipes a few drops of spit and cum off his mouth before clambering up the bed to straddle Bitty’s waist. “Just, give me a second, I’ve got you. I just … need to be able to feel my body again.”

“Don’t worry about it Bits,” Jack is still fully clothed, barely taking the time to unbutton his jeans as he pulls his leaking cock out and begins stroking hard and fast. “I’m so close. Fuck, you’re so hot. I love you like this …” 

It only takes a few strokes before Jack’s cock is pulsing, shooting cum across Bitty’s abs and chest. He collapses down, propping himself on his forearms around Bitty’s head, catching his breath and pressing kisses to Bitty’s mouth and throat. 

“Shit, honey, that was so hot. Come here, lay down for a minute,” Bitty says, stroking Jack’s hair and relaxing back. He’s still not going to be ready to move anytime soon.

“Hang on, just a sec,” Jack hops up and scampers off. Must be running to the bathroom for a washcloth, Bitty thinks vaguely, his mind still blissed out from orgasm. He hears Jack futzing around the room for a moment before he feels his weight on the bed again, Jack scrambling over him once again. But there’s no warm wet cloth and no husband snuggling up next to him. Instead he feels Jack struggling to stand over him. 

“OK Bits, look up here.”

Bitty struggles to open his eyes to find his husband looming over him, camera in hand and clicking away. It takes him a moment to process what is happening.

“Jack!” Bitty is not proud of how his voice squawks. “I didn’t think you meant now.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Jack stops and comes to sit by Bitty. “I just thought this was a good opportunity. I can delete them if you want.”

“Oh good lord, I should have known you’d be Mr. 100% about your kinks, too,” Bitty rolls his eyes but sits up. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The shots Sean took this afternoon were sensual, suggestive. Maybe even a little bit erotic, in some cases. But this … this is quite possibly the most pornographic image Bitty has ever seen, and he lived in a frat house for three years and traveled with a hockey team for four. His skin and hair are golden in the afternoon light, the flush from his orgasm still spread down his chest in a V. Jack’s cum lies in white stripes and spatters across his skin, painting him and marking him as Jack’s. His hair is mussed, his mouth open in surprise, and he looks radiant.

“Jack, this is … OH MY GOD WE CAN NEVER SHOW THIS TO ANYONE.”

“Yeah, I need a new lens if I’m going to be shooting close up,” and is Jack … fiddling with the settings?

“Wait, you seriously think I’m critiquing the quality here?” Bitty shakes his head incredulously. This boy. “No, sweetheart, the photo is amazing. It’s just … we can never show this to anyone. Anyone. It can never leave this room.”

“Well I certainly don’t plan on sharing it, though it may leave this room so I can transfer it onto the hard drive in the office,” Bitty swats at Jack, but they are both smiling. “But I agree. Maybe I’ll get a new memory card, hard drive and lens that we use just for this.”

“Good plan, sweetheart. Do some research and add them to your Amazon list so I can get them for you. You’re impossible to shop for.”

“What is wrong with saying I want socks?”

“It was our anniversary,” Bitty says, sitting up and stretching. “Well, that was fun, but I suppose I should put on some pants and let that poor man come up and collect all his equipment. He’s probably been stuck in the lobby this whole time.”

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Jack asks, pressing a kiss to Bitty’s temple. “Maybe we should invite him too, I think the least I can do is buy him a steak and a bottle of wine.”

“Sounds good sweetheart, I’ll ask him,” Bitty swats Jack’s hockey butt as he walks away and reaches for his phone to text Sean. “And you are putting on clean clothes Mr. Zimmermann! I see you trying to re-button those jeans.”

_/ \\_ _/\\_

The condo is dark and quiet as Jack lets himself in, trying to muffle the sound of his keys dropping in the bowl and gently settling his bag in the entryway. He should put it away, but it can wait until tomorrow. Right now he just wants to curl up next to his husband. It’s not been a long roadie, out to Columbus to play the Blue Jackets on Valentine’s Day and then back to Pittsburgh to face the Pens in today’s matinee. But being away for holidays and birthdays always puts an extra layer of strain on the trip, one more thing that makes it hard for Jack to go. He’s not sure how he’s going to be able to do it once the baby arrives in a few months, just one more piece of Jack’s heart he has to leave behind for every roadie. Hanging up his skates is starting to sound tempting.

He stumbles into the hallway, noticing that the light is on in the half-bath off the living room. He goes to turn it out before heading to bed, but as he gets closer he realizes there is a box sitting in the pool of light. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” reads the card on the outside.

Jack’s brow furrows in mild confusion. They had planned to celebrate tomorrow, since they knew Jack would be out of town, and his parents came down last weekend to help decorate the nursery. Is he supposed to open this now? But why did Bittle leave it in the hallway, with a light shining on it, if he’s supposed to wait? Bittle had mentioned trying to stay up until Jack got home tonight, though he appears to have gone to bed. Jack decides to risk it and open the card. 

The cover is a World War II-era pinup girl, wearing a swimming suit and an apron, taking a cake out of the oven. The inside is blank but for a handwritten inscription.

“I’m ready for my close up, Mr. Zimmermann. ;)”

Is it … Jack decides to go for it an open the box.

Inside is a new memory card, a new hard drive, and the lens he’d picked out for himself and added to his wish list. 

“Bits,” Jack chuckles, opening the packaging and pulling out the lens.

“That you sweetpea?” he hears from down the hallway. “I’m in here. Don’t forget to bring your present.”

“On my way, mon coeur,” Jack calls back, grabbing the lens and starting to unbutton his shirt as he heads down the hall.

This is going to be fun.

**Author's Note:**

> A few friends and I did a boudoir photography fic a couple of years ago as gifts to our husbands, and I couldn't shake the idea that Bitty would love to do something similar for Jack. It was one of the most empowering experiences of my life, and something I'd encourage everyone to try! It made me feel so sexy and desirable, even in my saggy old mom bod. If you ever get the chance, or it's something you've been thinking about but just haven't taken the plunge, GO FOR IT. You won't regret it. 
> 
> Check out my other Check Please works here or come scream about hockey boys, hockey, musicals, feminism or whatever else on [Tumblr](https://leftwinglibrarian.tumblr.com/).


End file.
